


i won't let you go

by taywen



Series: Vineyard AU [3]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: High Chaos (Dishonored), Low Chaos Daud, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-28
Updated: 2014-10-28
Packaged: 2018-02-22 23:42:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2526011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taywen/pseuds/taywen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smutty timestamp to "no one can ever follow".</p>
            </blockquote>





	i won't let you go

**Author's Note:**

> continues using dumb song lyrics for titles
> 
> UM you might need to read "no one can ever follow" but if you don't want to I guess you just need to know that basically this is a 'verse where high chaos!Corvo swears off killing after being betrayed by the Loyalists, starting with Daud and his Whalers. except Emily dies and Daud and his Whalers whisk Corvo off with them and eventually Daud and Corvo start banging, the end.

Corvo likes it when Daud's loud, when he strips away that careful control and leaves Daud focused entirely on the pleasure Corvo gives him. He doesn't want everyone to know, exactly- but he doesn't feel the need to hide it, either.

There will be no more trysts in darkened rooms, moans caught behind bitten lips or muffled by hands. Corvo lays his claim on Daud for all to see, sucking bruises high on his neck or splayed in the shape of his hands around his hips. Daud grumbles about the hickies in the morning, fussing at his collar in a futile effort to hide them- but Corvo's seen him lay his fingers over the handprints and _press_ , eyes half-lidded, something terribly private on his face.

So Corvo doesn't have any qualms about biting marks into Daud's skin; it goes both ways, too. Corvo's shoulders are a mess of bruises and bite marks, though they're usually hidden by his coat.

Sometimes, though, it gets to be- too much. Daud is not Jessamine ( _is_ Jessamine's murderer, no matter that he regrets it and tried to atone) and it isn't that Corvo wants him to be (he doesn't) but sometimes Corvo catches himself teaching the younger Whalers certain techniques (a Tyvian chokehold) or listening to Daud complain about the antics of certain idiots and the magnitude of what he has lost comes home to him all over again.

Daud was the catalyst, but Corvo can recognize that he did little (if anything) to fix matters. No matter what Daud claims Jess- the heart- told him, Corvo knows that it's his fault Emily died.

When that happens, Corvo has to- go. He takes his blade (of the same make as the Whalers') and his coat (nearly unrecognizable, it's so ragged and frayed) and the bone charm that keeps the nightmares away (also from Daud) and just leaves.

* * *

Corvo leaves, but he never considers staying away. Returning is a constant; in any case, he has nowhere else to go. Not that he wants to. He had gladly dedicated his life to Jessamine and Emily, but that time has passed, now. He isn't interested in finding someone to fill that void in his life, though at times the lack of purpose grates upon him. Collecting runes and bone charms is a poor substitute, and the chores on the property are too tedious to distract him. The Whalers as a whole are still more or less terrified of him, so there's that as well; intimidating them with his very presence has limited entertainment value.

Daud's poorly-concealed relief every time Corvo turns up again, dusty and (sometimes) bloody, almost makes up for it. Corvo wonders if Daud just expects him to leave one day, and not come back- but the thought bothers him for reasons he doesn't care to examine so he tries not to dwell on it.

As more time passes away from the vineyard, however, Corvo finds himself drawn to the thought. How long would it take for Daud to think him gone for good? What would Daud do about it? Nothing?

Corvo could leave. He might not have anywhere to go, but there's nothing tying him here either, except the- whatever it is they're doing- with Daud.

It's already been nearly two weeks, this time. The heart sits heavily against his own, beating languidly. She's quiet now; Corvo's found all the runes and bone charms this coastal town has to offer, though he doesn't doubt that more will wash up on the shore soon after he leaves.

There are fewer shrines to the Outsider here on Serkonos. Corvo doesn't know what to make of that- if Gristol as a whole and Dunwall in particular were miserable enough to drive their inhabitants to worship the Outsider, or if he's just looking in the wrong places. He went to the cities only to find the gifts for Daud, and he didn't try to search out the runes and bone charms hidden there.

The heart is a familiar weight in his hand. The Outsider told him that she would remain until there was no one left that she loved; the creature had not understood why this had upset him.

Corvo points the heart at himself, but she is silent as always. He does not hear her steady beating so much as feel it, pulsing up his arm. The disappointment is familiar, but still as strong as it has ever been. Daud told him what she said but Corvo can't bring himself to believe it.

He tucks the heart away again and heads for the main road out of town.

* * *

Corvo has no one to protect anymore, but it is a habit he has yet to break, no matter how badly he failed when it _truly_ mattered. He travels the back roads, half-hoping for some enterprising brigand to attempt an ambush; he tries not to kill them, though the injuries he leaves them with can hardly be considered mercy.

It is not really protection; certainly, these thieves will no longer be haunting the country tracks, but it's more of an excuse for Corvo to taste blood again. That he is making the roads safer is merely a byproduct of his actions, not the goal.

There are no brigands this time. Corvo would be surprised to find them on the roads he usually takes back to Daud's vineyard, but he's a bit disappointed all the same.

The restlessness hasn't dissipated by the time he reaches the bushes marking the boundary of Daud's property. It's some time after midnight, and what little light the moon casts barely illuminates the ground.

The property is quiet and still; when Corvo nearly trips in a pothole at the mouth of the track leading into the property, his curse is loud in the silence.

Irritated, he activates his dark vision. A hound blooms into view and Corvo nearly lashes out before realizing it's one of the mutts a Whaler had recently acquired. Aedan had made some noise about training it to herd the sheep or something equally ridiculous.

It sniffs curiously at Corvo, paying particular attention to the pockets loaded down with runes and bone charms, but it goes away easily enough when Corvo flaps a hand impatiently.

He mutters to himself as he stalks up the dirt track, keeping an eye out for further pitfalls and scanning the surrounding area out of habit more than anything. There are a few lights lit in the bunkhouse, but the main house is dark and, Corvo sees as he draws nearer, for the most part empty.

He supposes it must be the date of the semi-regular trips into town that the Whalers make. They can go at any time, but most of them seem to prefer traveling in groups; Corvo can't understand it, but he's always worked more or less alone.

Corvo would've expected Rinaldo, Rulfio and Thomas to go, but Hobson's absence is a bit more surprising. He doesn't seem to have time for that sort of thing, usually.

Daud is in his room; as far as Corvo knows, apart from a few trips to make arrangements for necessities when they first reached the vineyard, Daud has yet to leave.

Corvo stumbles, his gaze skipping back to Daud's illuminated form. He's-

He'd intended to stop at the shrine to drop off the new acquisitions, but somehow Corvo finds himself in Daud's room, all thoughts of the Outsider and his trinkets forgotten.

"Corvo," Daud says, his voice lower than usual, and he opens his mouth to say something else but then Corvo's on him, shoving the blanket aside as he bites at Daud's lips.

Daud hisses, bites him back, his free hand rising to tug at Corvo's coat. Corvo ignores him, bracing himself over Daud with one hand and reaching down to press a third finger in, dry, alongside the two Daud's already working into himself.

"F-fuck," Daud says, arching.

"You couldn't wait for me, is that it?" Corvo says, and Daud groans, his neck tilted back invitingly. Corvo nips at the column of his throat; any bruises from last time have long since faded, and the sight of Daud's unmarked throat is more disturbing than Corvo would have expected.

"Clothes," Daud says, shoving the coat off Corvo's shoulder. He pulls his other hand away and Corvo presses a second finger in. Daud shudders at that, his body tensing at the gritty drag.

"Oil," Corvo counters, working his fingers gently.

Daud shoves the vial at him then applies shaking fingers to the buttons of Corvo's shirt. He's getting oil everywhere, but Corvo doesn't particularly care.

"You didn't answer me," he says, pulling his fingers out. He shrugs out of his coat, ignoring the clatter as it hits the floor. His shirt follows, and he stands to strip out of the rest of his clothes too, very much aware of Daud's heated gaze. He pauses only to flick on the bedside lamp; he isn't interested in darkness or silence when they do _this_.

Daud's lazily jacking himself when Corvo crowds back onto the bed, kneeling between the sprawl of Daud's thighs.

"Well?" Corvo says, picking the vial up again but not doing anything further.

Daud's shaky exhale is loud in the quiet room. "Like you said," he says roughly, "I didn't know if you'd come back."

That _wasn't_ what Corvo had said, and he narrows his eyes. "Of course I'd come back," Corvo says without thinking, the words coming out harsher than he would have intended had he stopped to consider them.

Daud's eyes widen slightly, a startled expression crossing his face.

"Stop touching yourself. You can wait, now," Corvo snaps. The speed with which Daud follows the order goes a long way to assuage Corvo's disconcertion, and he slicks his fingers quickly.

Daud moans when Corvo tries to push three in at once, his body tensing against the intrusion. Corvo makes an impatient sound and presses two in first, quickly working the third in as Daud relaxes around them. For all his words, Corvo isn't interested in waiting.

"I saw you coming up the track," Daud admits. Corvo goes still, his mind blanking at the thought. "Corvo," Daud says, not quite pleading. His head tips back and he groans as Corvo presses a fourth finger in without warning.

"You were watching for me?" Corvo asks, working his fingers shallowly.

"Stop _teasing_."

"Answer me," Corvo says, but he obliges Daud all the same, pressing his fingers in deep and curling them.

Daud jerks and moans. "Of c-course I was," he says, rocking down insistently. As if it should be obvious. Corvo ducks his head, the fall of his hair hiding the embarrassing expression that he imagines must be on his face.

He wraps his free hand around Daud's dick, pumping him in time with the motions of his fingers. Daud moans, thrusting up into his fist and pressing back against his fingers. The friction must border on painful; what oil is left from earlier barely eases the glide of Corvo's hand, but Daud doesn't complain. Neither of them has much of a problem with pain, and the precome leaking from his dick helps some.

"Fuck," Daud says thickly. He grabs Corvo's wrist, so Corvo rubs his thumb against Daud's perineum in retaliation, grinning when Daud arches. "Please-"

"Hands on the headboard," Corvo says, tightening his grip. He swipes his thumb against the head of Daud's dick when that doesn't elicit an immediate reaction.

Daud _whines_ , his head dropping back as he does as he's told. "Corvo, please," he gasps as Corvo jacks him off with one hand, fucking him steadily with the other.

Corvo hums in reply, his gaze traveling from Daud's flushed cheeks to the bob of his throat as he swallows. He'd like to kiss him quiet, can easily imagine Daud's sloppy attempts to return it, but the angle isn't quite right anyway.

" _Please_ ," Daud says, the wrecked tone of his voice sending a flare of arousal through him. His dick throbs, a reminder that he has yet to touch it but- but that can wait. "Fuck me already, I'm going to-"

"No," Corvo says, but he doesn't let up at all. It's a simple matter to shuffle back on the bed, lower his head and take Daud in until his dick hits the back of Corvo's throat.

Daud comes with a shout, his voice breaking as Corvo swallows around him. When Daud utters a soft sound of protest and tries to squirm away from him, Corvo pulls off, panting. He wraps his oil-slick fingers around his dick, forehead pressed to Daud's thigh as he pulls urgently at his arousal.

"Corvo," Daud rasps; his hands are still braced on the headboard when Corvo looks up, and he bites his lip to stifle a moan. Daud grunts as Corvo crawls inelegantly up the bed, accidentally knocking his knee against Daud's side.

"Touch me," Corvo says, bracing his elbows beside Daud's head. He muffles his groan at the first brush of Daud's hand against his aching dick by kissing him, hard.

Daud curls his other hand in Corvo's hair, fitting their lips together so he can lick into Corvo's mouth- chasing his own taste, perhaps. He drags his palm over the head of Corvo's dick every few strokes, making Corvo shudder each time, his hips jerking unsteadily. Daud breaks the kiss, and Corvo presses his face into Daud's neck, mouthing blindly at the thrum of his pulse.

"You could've still fucked me," Daud says, and that's it, Corvo comes all over his hand and belly, biting down hard enough to break Daud's skin.

Corvo rolls off a few moments later, breathing hard. He's started to doze when Daud makes a discontented noise; Daud's looking at the mess on his stomach with disgust when Corvo glances over.

"Don't," Daud says, annoyed, when Corvo curls into his side, idly rubbing his fingers through the rapidly cooling mess. He tilts his neck back easily enough when Corvo mouths over the sluggishly bleeding mark on his throat, though. "I mean it, Corvo," he says, batting Corvo's hand away.

Corvo pulls away and stares Daud down as he sucks his fingers clean. It's bitter and more than a little revolting, but it's worth it to watch the way Daud's pupils dilate and hear the way his breath hitches.

"Disgusting," Daud says, unconvincingly. He rolls out of the bed and Corvo watches him leave the room.

Corvo rouses again when Daud gets back in beside him, tugging the blanket over them both. He must've turned off the lamp while Corvo dozed; his skin is still damp when he presses up against Corvo's back, one arm curling around Corvo's waist.

"When was the last time you slept?" Daud asks, his tone carefully neutral. Corvo would roll his eyes if he wasn't so close to sleep.

"A few days ago," he mutters, turning his face into the pillow.

Daud hums, noncommittal. "Because I wanted to ride your dick tomorrow morning," he all but purrs, and Corvo can feel his smirk against the back of his neck.

Corvo groans at the thought. "What time do your men get back..?"

"Who cares?" The words are muffled against Corvo's skin, and what little tension remains in him drains away when Daud carefully applies his teeth to the swell of Corvo's shoulder blade.

Corvo drifts off to Daud following the path of his scars with lips and tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> mostly written at like 1 in the morning so feel free to point out any stupid mistakes or whatever
> 
> part 2 forthcoming hopefully with less exposition and more fucking but yeah we'll see


End file.
